


1912 - Everything Sank

by stellations



Series: Longevity of the Stars [3]
Category: Sanctuary (TV), Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Because of Reasons, Could Be Canon, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, POV Multiple, RMS Titanic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7164791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellations/pseuds/stellations





	1912 - Everything Sank

The wire would be too late in coming. Nikola heard the news as the _Carpathia_ docked in New York. The RMS _Titanic_ , the unsinkable ship, was now resting at the bottom of the ocean, along with a good chunk of her passengers and crew. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Disappointed in humanity, perhaps.

 _Again_.

Still, he had known one person aboard the _Titanic_ , so something had him making his way to the docks to see if John Astor had actually survived. He discovered, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched Astor's wife Madeleine make her way down the ramp, that the man had not. So, it was that he turned away, intending to grieve with a bottle of wine while he cursed mortality. 

The wind blew gently through the lanes and his nose twitched. Why was he imagining her scent now of all times? Nikola inhaled again and sharply wheeled around. Imaginings were never this strong. 

Imagination could not recreate her smell this perfectly.

***

The _Titanic_ would forever haunt her in much the same way John did. What was supposed to be a gentle and safe voyage into the unknown had turned into something terrible, a deadly nightmare she could never escape from.

Helen was one of the last off the ship, her caretaker nature providing a distraction for her as she beat back memories and guilt by helping those in need, including Madeleine Astor, who had lost her husband in the tragedy. Helen had no real idea of what she would do once she had finished her duties as a doctor and didn't want to think about how alone she would be in this strange city. As an upper class citizen, she had been guaranteed a spot on one of the lifeboats, but she had given it up to someone more in need, with the understanding that she would not survive. To find that she had, that stubborn Molly Brown would not leave her in those icy waters after they had both worked so tirelessly to save others, was nothing short of a shock.

She would carry a muted form of survivor's guilt for some time afterwards.

Once her work had been completed, once she and Molly had worked themselves to the bone to ensure that everyone would be all right and had been delivered into the arms of friends or family, Helen finally stepped off the ship, descending the ramp with one hand on the railing and one tangled in the torn mess of her skirts. Somewhere along the line she had lost her shoes, likely to the icy grip of the salt water, but a kind woman half her age had offered her a pair on the _Carpathia_ , as well as a few pins for her hair, because she had realized how precious few the survivors had.

And that Helen was more concerned for everyone else than herself. She had made certain to ask for a way to repay the woman, but her request was waved away. So Helen was left feeling bereft without anything to do or anyone to care for but herself.

She finally lifted her head to scan the crowd as she descended, the wind picking at her hair and sending a shiver racing down her spine, wracking her body with its tight hold. Her gaze found someone else's out in the crowd and her lips formed a little "O" of surprise as she inhaled sharply. Of course. How could she have forgotten that Nikola was here in New York?

Relief hit her with the force of one of Nikola's experiments and her grip tightened on the railing to steady herself. Exhaustion took its turn and she swayed. The hand twisted in her skirts released them, reaching as though to grab the railing but instead of cold, twisted metal, her fingers wrapped around someone else's hand. Her body collapsed against Nikola's as he wrapped an arm around her.

" _Helen_ ," he chastised gently, his tone belying the worry she could see in his eyes. "I thought you knew better than to go out in public looking like a peasant."

She could hardly help herself; she laughed. It was full of water, tears or ocean was unclear at the time, and she sounded like she was choking, but she laughed. However, the tears were not far behind. So in the effort of saving the good doctor at least a little of her dignity, Nikola guided her out through the crowd with one arm wrapped firmly around her waist and his other hand tightly gripping hers. She had the fleeting thought that his moustache still looked funny before he had pushed her into a building. Her mind felt like one big cloud. She could not even recall if they had hailed a buggy or simply walked. Nothing made sense. Exhaustion held her. She had no earthly idea where she even _was_.

That could not bode well for her mental state.

The tears had dried on her cheeks by the time Nikola guided her into a chair in some sort of lobby. A hotel. Yes, of course; the Waldorf-Astoria. Nikola left her side for a brief moment to ask if he could... contact another room? Someone in another room. Another guest. A few minutes passed by and then she could hear a hushed conversation, of which Nikola was half. 

None of it sank in until she heard his voice ask if whoever it was would be willing to help her. A woman answered, "Of course," and then the two of them were walking over. Helen took a deep breath and finally stood, trying to look as dignified as possible despite her state of dress.

"Helen, a friend I met in San Francisco, Madame Guinan. Guinan... this is a long-time friend and colleague of mine, Doctor Helen Magnus."

"What a pleasure to meet you, Madame Guinan," Helen managed, feeling that it was nothing short of a miracle.

"The pleasure's all mine," the woman answered.

Helen supposed she ought to take note of the woman's skin tone more than her preferred dress, but she never was one to care about either thing much. If Guinan was a friend of Nikola's, then she was a friend of Helen's.

"I asked Guinan if she would not mind helping you find something... more suitable to being seen in."

Fashion had been the least of Helen's worries. She glanced down at her skirts and repressed a laugh at her own expense. "I will need to send word to James. Ask him to wire money."

"I will take care of it all, Helen," Nikola told her softly, watching her with a concern she was not accustomed to seeing from him. 

She managed a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you, Nikola."

"You're welcome to stay with me for as long as you need to," Guinan spoke up. "Believe me, it's better than listening to all of the gossip."

Helen offered a watery laugh again. "Thank you, Madame Guinan."

What she would do without these people, she did not like to think. She was quite fortunate, she knew. At times, she did not feel as such, but she knew that she was. She would not survive without people like Nikola and Guinan. Someday she would find a way to repay them, inform them of just how important they were to her and how grateful she was for their existence.


End file.
